Only The Good Die Young
by castielsgrace
Summary: Kurt feels like he's breaking, and no one around him seems to notice. Rated T because of the sensitivity of the topic and language. Not Klaine centric, though it's there. Barely. Not a happy story. Trigger warning: Cutting, character death. Two chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Heartbreak. Kurt knew that everyone dealt with it; he _knew_ that no matter what, it was high school and everyone knows that nothing lasts in high school. All of these facts were fine and dandy, that is until you're actually forced to deal with the constant stabbing pain of it all. Not to mention that for a minute there Kurt actually thought that he and Blaine _had _something. Kurt fell hard for the shorter boy, and when Blaine finally started to fall back Kurt was sure that they were going to be able to make it through their senior year _together. _What Kurt wasn't expecting was to walk in on Blaine trying to kiss his own _step-brother._

The pain that overtook him as he fell to his knees surprised Kurt. He felt as if his heart was being _clawed_ from his chest and stomped on repeatedly. His stomach churned and Kurt wrapped his arms around his middle, clutching painfully as he tried to just disappear. Kurt was vaguely aware of people shouting around him, followed by angry footsteps and then a warm hand on his back. Kurt flinched away, but now there were two hands trying to pry his arms from around his stomach.

"Kurt," The voice said from above him… Finn, Kurt assumed.

"Go away," He whined, "just leave me alone!"

There were more footsteps, and then all Kurt could hear were the sounds of his own ragged breathing. He stayed like that for what felt like ages. Carole and Burt both tried to talk to him, but Kurt feigned sleep. When they returned hours later, telling him that it was dinner, Kurt told them that he wasn't hungry. When they came up again and tried to force him to speak, he told his dad to fuck off, which resulted in him getting grounded. Kurt begrudgingly made his way to his own room, slamming his door before lying down on his bed and praying this was all a sadistic dream.

It wasn't. Kurt woke the next morning still in his skinny jeans and oversized sweater he had worn yesterday in hopes of impressing Blaine, who apparently just wanted to swap spit with his brother. Kurt suddenly felt like he was going to be sick, and he had to run to the bathroom. When he emerged Finn was standing outside his bedroom, hand raised as if he were about to knock and his eyelids heavy with lack of sleep. The floor creaked under Kurt, and his brother turned to face him.

"Kurt," He began, his voice croaking, "I'm so, _so_ sorry, man. I don't—I don't even know what Blaine was-"

"It's fine, Finn. It's not like _you_ were the one initiating the kiss," Kurt was aware of how monotone his voice sounded, how completely _unconvincing_ he was.

"Look, dude—"

"Finn, how many times have I told you not to call me _dude_?"

"Sorry, but seriously Kurt. I don't think Blaine was himself. He was all—"

Kurt put a hand up, stopping his brother from continuing and squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn't cry. "Don't, Finn," his voice cracked slightly, "please, just… don't."

There was a silence before Finn awkwardly pulled Kurt into a hug, "I'm sorry."

Kurt tried his hardest not to cry.

School was difficult. Kurt had told Finn not to tell a _soul _about Blaine, and he stayed true to his word. Kurt plastered a fake smile on his face as he greeted Mercedes, and she believed it so easily. Everyone seemed to believe the façade he had going, even Finn seemed to believe that he was feeling better. Instead of the sorrow he expected, Kurt was filled with anger. These were his friends, why were they so easily fooled? Obviously they didn't care enough to look just under the surface or they'd see that he was so far from okay. But they didn't. Kurt waited all day for someone to call him out, but no one did.

By the time Glee rolled around, Kurt was so tightly wound that he snapped at Brittany for one of her stupid questions, causing the girl to break down into tears. Kurt quickly excused himself from the classroom, trying to ignore the confused stares and glares from his classmates as he calmly walked out the door. Once he was in the hallway, Kurt lost his composure. He stopped trying to block the tears, instead letting them rush down his face as he made his way to his car. Kurt knew he probably looked like a complete _mess_ but he _hurt._ He hurt so much that he thought that it'd never go away. He felt as if he was in the bottom of a deep, dark well with no way of going up. He could hear all his friends laughing and singing, but none of them tried to reach down and grab his hand. No one even noticed he was gone. Because if Kurt was honest with himself, he knew that no one actually _cared._ Everyone had someone else, someone better. For the longest time it was Kurt and Mercedes, but now Mercedes had Sam. Everyone had someone and Kurt had _no one._ Even Blaine, lovely Blaine, wanted Finn, not Kurt.

Kurt placed his key in the ignition and started his car. He knew that school wasn't out yet and Mr. Schue probably expected him to be back in class, but how could Kurt return to that room, that room full of happy people. They didn't need him, they didn't _want_ him. Nobody wanted him. _Nobody wanted him_.

For the next month, Kurt's life passed in routine. He got up in the morning, put on a smile for his family, and got ready for school (though he no longer bothered with his facial routine. What was the point?), where he continued to feign happiness. A month and still no one realized a difference. To make matters worse, Blaine had called him every night without fail. And every night Kurt would ignore his calls and delete his texts. He didn't want to hear Blaine's pointless lies. For some reason, though, Kurt was hyperaware of all the people around him. All the friendships, all the relationships. He felt like he was always on the outside and it _hurt._ Not even Mercedes, who was supposed to be his best friend, realized that all he ever wore were long sleeved shirts and sweaters and jackets. Even if it was getting into the summer months, no one seemed to find it weird.

But if they were to just lift his sleeve… they'd see. And part of Kurt _wanted_ them to see, wanted them to _know_ that he wasn't okay like they thought. Part of him, even if it was a very small part, wanted to scream and cry for help. But that part of him was constantly being pushed away by the numbness that filled him now.

Kurt had opted to skip Glee today. He wasn't in the mood for singing or dancing or faking a smile anymore, and he just wanted to go home. So he went to Mr. Schue and told him some bull about not feeling well and of course his teacher believed him even if he only had to stop and _look_ at Kurt to see that he was not okay and probably shouldn't be left alone. But he believed the lie, just like everyone else, and that's why Kurt was sitting on his bed while no one was home with a sharp razorblade in his hand and his sleeves pushed up past his elbows. He fingered the scars and scabs that lined his arms, realizing that he was quickly running out of spots to cut.

Kurt realized that as the spaces on his arm ran out, so did his will to keep living. Sure, he'd contemplated suicide for a while now, and even decided how he'd do it, but instead he would just cut two new lines on his arms and silently hope that someone would walk in, that someone would notice.

Kurt realized that his patience had run out. He'd had enough. Today was the day he finally had some peace. So Kurt placed the razorblade on his bedside table and walked into the bathroom he shared with Finn. After some digging he found what he was looking for; a full bottle of pills. Kurt walked into his bedroom with the pills and a glass of water in hand. The pop of the lid followed by the cool liquid running down his throat felt like heaven. In five minutes he had swallowed the whole bottle, and Kurt could already feel the effects of the first ten starting to kick in. He felt oddly… peaceful, if not a bit dopey. He also felt like he had to do something, just one last thing. So Kurt picked up his phone and dialled Blaine's number.

"_Kurt!"_ Blaine exclaimed happily, having picked up on the first ring. _"Kurt, I'm—"_

"Blaaiine," Kurt sang the name, not caring to hear the long prepared apology that he was sure was coming. "I forgive you. It's not like I can blame you, I mean Finn's so _tall_ and shit."

"_Kurt, I don't like your brother."_

"Sure, sure, whatever you say Blaine." Kurt replied calmly, "I just want you to promise me that you're going to go and live your dreams, and find yourself a good guy to marry, 'kay?"

"_Kurt, what are you talking about?"_

"Look, Blaine," His voice was starting to slur now, and Kurt knew he didn't have too long before the blackness took him, "You're… you're, like, a really awesome guy and I'm really glad you at least gave me a little while to know what it was like to be with someone. Thank you for being my first and I'm glad you were my last, 'cause I don't really know who else I'd want it to be. So you go and you find yourself a real good man, 'kay?"

"_Your last? Kurt, you're 17! Wait… why does your voice sound so slurred. Kurt what's going on?"_

"I'm not strong enough Blaine," Kurt's lowered his voice to a whisper, "I don't have enough courage, and I'm sorry. And… I love you, 'kay?"

"_Kurt, what… Please tell me you're not—"_

"Bye-bye, Blaine." Kurt said before hanging up. He placed his phone next to him on the bed before lying down and closing his eyes. He just had to wait a little longer, and then he'll be okay. Then everything will be over.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So I hope this wasn't too terrible. It's something I threw together in about an hour, and I'm not going to say there's _definitely _going to be another chapter, the possibility is there, but only if people want to see another chapter. I know it didn't have the happiest ending, but life doesn't always have happy endings. Anyways, yeah.

Thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as he reached the Hudson-Hummel household, Blaine knew he was too late. He felt it in the pit of his stomach. And he knew that he would be the one to find Kurt, and he _knew_ that it was going to kill him. But even as he thought about it Blaine clung to the childish hope that Finn or Burt or Carol or anyone had miraculously came home early and stopped him, Blaine clung to the hope of Kurt living even though he knew it was impossible. It may've been a pathetic hope, but as he entered Kurt's unlocked home it was all he had to keep him from breaking down completely. He hastily made his way up the stairs, taking them by twos and only tripping once, Blaine made his way to Kurt's bedroom door, which was closed. Blaine placed a quivering hand on the knob, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in a quivering breath before pushing the door open.

His eyes landed upon Kurt's still form on his bed immediately. A strangled cry forced itself from Blaine's throat as he ran to Kurt's side and dropped to his knees.

"Kurt. Kurt, wake up," Blaine begged, shaking hands roaming all over the boy's pale face, "Kurt you can't do this! You can't leave me here alone! Why would you give up? You were… you were going to be a famous designer! You were going to be successful, you were going to be _so much._ Why… why would you do this?"

Blaine lost his ability to speak as the sobs racked through his body. It was all his fault. He should've tried harder to tell Kurt why he tried to kiss his brother. He should've demanded that he listen so Blaine could tell him about the spiked juice at the Warblers party. He should've told Kurt how much he loved him… Kurt never knew. He never knew that Blaine loved him. _This was all his fault._

Burt slowed the car as he approached his home. The gay kid from Dalton… Blaine's car was parked quite sloppily on the street in front of his house. Burt tightened his grip on the steering wheel. That Blaine kid had hurt his boy, what the fuck was he doing here? And when no one was home.

"Burt, honey, isn't that Blaine's car?" Carol asked from beside him.

"Yeah," he responded through clenched teeth. Burt parked in the driveway and headed straight into the house, not bothering to ask Carol if she needed help with the groceries. The front door was unlocked, which Burt found odd. Kurt never left the door unlocked.

As soon as he stepped through the threshold and into his home, Burt heard sounds; whimpers. His heart tightened with anger before he realized that it was only one voice. Something was wrong.

He stomped his way up the stairs and towards Kurt's room. He expected to see him and Blaine arguing or maybe "making up", but instead he walked in to find Blaine whimpering on the floor as he clutched one of Kurt's very pale hands in his own. Burt's eyes strayed up his son's pale and… Burt closed his eyes and furrowed his brow at the scars and scabs that lined Kurt's wrists. When he opened his eyes again they went straight to Kurt's face, which was paler then the white walls around them. The pink that normally tinted his cheeks was gone and it finally hit Burt that his son was too. He fell to his knees painfully as he yelled. The sound wasn't from anger, but pure and utter heartbreak. His son was gone.

Carol heard Burt's strangled scream as she walked into the home with her groceries. Right away she knew that Burt hadn't stumbled across the boys having sex like she had assumed he would. She dropped the bag she was holding and ran up the stairs, ran to Kurt's room. She saw Burt before she reached the landing. He had his head in his hands and his whole body shook. She rushed forward to comfort him, but stopped dead when she looked into Kurt's room to find him lying motionless on the bed. Blaine was crying as he held onto Kurt's hand and Carol's hand flew to her mouth, a gasp escaping her lips as she saw the cuts on Kurt's wrists.

"Burt, Burt honey," she said, gently placing her hands on his broad shoulders. "I'm going to… I'm going to call 911, okay?"

"What's the point?" He asked, standing suddenly, "He's gone, Carol. He's not coming back. He's _never_ coming back."

"I know Burt honey, but I still have to—"

"Whatever. Do what you want." Burt said angrily before storming out of the room. Carol was about to turn away to go and call when Blaine let out another sob, seemingly unaware of the disturbance. She walked over to him, placing her hand on his back.

"Blaine?" She asked softly.

He looked up and his eyes were red and puffy and slightly swollen from _a lot_ of crying, and he looked completely heartbroken. "It's all my fault, Mrs. Hummel." He croaked.

"No. Blaine, honey, don't you ever blame yourself. No one even knew Kurt was… Kurt was cutting. We couldn't've known he was going to… well do this."

"You don't understand, Mrs. Hummel. I tried to kiss Finn when I was drunk and I _broke_ him. I didn't… I didn't try hard enough to make him understand and… and I just _know_ if I would've made him understand I would've been able to… to _know_ he was hurting. But… but we all believed his façade. We all believed his fake smile. None of us noticed he was hurting inside."

"I know," Carol whispered, "I know. We should've noticed, but he just seemed so okay. None of us gave it a second thought. But Blaine, dear, it's not your fault. Kurt wouldn't want you to keep blaming yourself."

"He didn't know."

"Pardon?" She asked, having just barely heard Blaine's whisper.

"He didn't know." Blaine said, louder this time.

"Know what, sweetie?"

"He didn't know that I love him. I never got to tell him and… and he died thinking I liked _Finn_ for fucks sake!" His face morphed into a grimace, and he turned back to Kurt's form, grabbing at his shoulders and shaking. "Kurt, wake up! _You can't leave me here alone!" _

"Blaine!" Carol exclaimed, pulling him forcefully away from Kurt by the shoulders. "Blaine, _stop!"_

He seemed to give up as he collapsed in her arms, a last whisper of "He never knew," playing on his lips before the tears started again. It broke Carol's heart.

Finn knew something was wrong as soon as he got home. Everything was silent even though his parents' car was in the driveway next to Kurt's. Blaine's car was here too, though, which was weird.

"Mom?" He called into the house.

"In here, Finn sweetie," His mom's voice sounded sad, and she only called him 'sweetie' when something was wrong. He rushed into the kitchen to find his parents', plus Blaine, sitting at the kitchen table. Burt was staring off into space, a glass filled with what looked like whiskey in his hands, while Blaine sat beside him with his head hung, looking completely miserable and whimpering every few moments. His mom looked sad, too, but she was the most put together of the three.

"Mom, what's going on?" He demanded.

"Finn, sit down please." He hesitantly made his way over to the kitchen table, pulling out the chair next to Blaine and sitting down. "Finn, honey…" His mother began, "Finn, Kurt's… Kurt's gone."

"What? Gone where? Like, to Mercedes'?"

"No, honey," His mom reached over, grabbing one of his hands, "Kurt, he… he's… He's dead."

"Dead?" Finn asked loudly, standing up and clenching his fists, "_How?_ What happened? If it was that stupid Azimio kid I swear to god I will fucking kill him."

"Finn, Kurt took his own life."

"He… he what?" His voice cracked and he fell back down onto the chair.

"We think Kurt was depressed, sweetie. He had cuts all over his arms and today he came home and took a bottle of pills. He was gone long before Blaine could help him."

"Why would he do that? Kurt's strong, he doesn't let things get to him. He was just… he was laughing with us at lunch." Finn didn't block the tears that started to fall. His brother… was gone.

"Apparently he wasn't as strong as we thought," His mom said quietly, and Finn could feel as his heart broke.

When Glee rolled around the next day, Will took his time heading to class. He knew that they would all be laughing and happy. No one knew aside from Finn and he hadn't shown up today. He just knew that this was going to break their hearts, that it was going to destroy them. Everyone loved Kurt so much and now that he was… No, Will couldn't think about that. He needed to be strong. For the kids. But even Sue had let a tear fall. When he finally entered the choir room, Rachel's hand shot up almost immediately.

"Mr. Schue, if I may."

"Not today, Rachel. I have something very important to tell you all." The young girl's face fell, but she sat down without argument, Will assumed his tone of voice told them all he was completely serious.

"What is it, Mr. Schue?" Mercedes asked, and Will's heart clenched painfully just thinking about how devastated the young diva would be.

"Yesterday at roughly 1:45…" Will's voice trailed off. His prepared speech sounded too informal for this, too cold. "Guys, can we come sit in a circle in the middle of the class please?"

The kid's gave him weird looks, but did as they were told. Will leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees and letting his head hang as he waited for them all to get seated.

"Mr. Schue?" Quinn's voice came from his left.

"Guys, I have some really bad news."

"We don't have enough funding for Nationals, do we?" Rachel asked.

"Rachel, this has nothing to do with Nationals. This is… this is about Kurt," Will looked at each of his students in turn, "I'm sure you all noticed his absence yesterday?"

"Well, of course. Class is always more sarcastic with Kurt around," Santana said, "It's more fun."

"Well yesterday," Will let out a sigh, unsure of how to say this in a way that didn't sound cold, but he came up empty. "Yesterday Kurt took his life."

There were a serious of gasps followed by Mercedes' loud exclamation of, "What the hell are you talkin' about, Mr. Schue?"

"Mrs. Hummel called me this morning to inform me that Kurt committed suicide yesterday. She said that he had cuts up both his arms and that he appeared to have been depressed for a while now."

Brittany started crying softly, and Santana placed an arm around the blonde girls' shoulders, though she was crying too. Puck and Mercedes stared at him with expressions of disbelief while Rachel was curling in on herself. Artie and Sam had their heads down and Will couldn't tell if they were crying or not.

"You're not telling the truth." Mercedes said, "Kurt would never do that. He's strong. He's brave. He's got too much going for him."

"Yeah," Puck agreed, "My boy's too strong to give up."

But even as they spoke Will could see the tears forming in their eyes. In a matter of minutes they would all be sent home early to deal with their loss. Will told them not to come to school tomorrow if they didn't feel up to it, but as each of them left his class he could see the pained expressions of heartbreak on their faces.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Okay, that's it. That's the end. Again, I know it's not a happy ending, but I never planned for this to be a happy story. What I wanted to accomplish with this story was bringing awareness to the fact that, even if it seems like life is too hard to continue, suicide is not the answer. Not only do you give up any happiness that you could've had in the future, but it destroys those around you.

I know it seems hard, and I know it's horrible in the darkness that surrounds you when you're depressed, but all you need to do is call out. Call out for help, _let someone help you_. I _know_ that is probably the last thing you want to do, but you need to. Living with such unhappiness isn't good, and I can promise you that calling for help doesn't make you weak, it makes you strong. People aren't going to judge you if you go to them and ask for help, they are going to help you.

Just please remember that suicide is _not_ the answer, it's _never_ the answer. I can assure you that better things will come in life, even if it doesn't seem that way now. I know that you may think "_Oh, yeah, she can talk. She doesn't know how it feels"_, but I do. I've been there. I've wanted to take my own life, I've cut. But I didn't, I pulled through with the help of some wonderful people and I'm _so _glad I did.

So if you're ever feeling unloved or unwanted or hopeless, if you're ever thinking of committing suicide _please_ send me a message, an ask on Tumblr, and email (it can be found on my dA), _**anything.**_ I will be there for you and I will _**always**_ answer and try and help to my best ability because I do care. So please stay strong and live your life. Death doesn't bring peace, it brings nothingness. Life, while it may bring sorrow and pain, also brings happiness and love. So don't give up. As Blaine would say, have courage. _**You matter.**_


End file.
